Sarah Jane

[ Roud 32977 ; Mudcat 21974 ; Jimmy McCurry]

Frank Harte sang Sarah Jane in 1987 on his Faetain album Daybreak and a Candle-End. He noted:

This is one of Eddie Butcher’s lovely local ballads. I have never heard anybody else but Eddie singing it. It is very similar in character to the Coleraine Regatta or The Star of Moville. It was the strange meter of this song that first appealed to me as well as the inclusion of words that are not usual in such songs … “As the sun passed o’er the meridian” or “The land-rail out from her grassy bed”; the land-rail, of course, being another name for the corncrake. I like too the way the bird tells the lover “You might as well go home and sing your poem”. There is a line in the last verse that may confuse the listener. Liza Kealy’s is a pub in the town of Myroe, County Derry.

The Voice Squad sang Sarah Jane on their 1992 album Holly Wood (later reissued as Good People All). Frank Harte noted:

This is one of the many songs that I got from Eddie Butcher, that great singer who lived in Magilligan, Co Derry. What attracted me so much about the song was the strange meter as well as the inclusion of obscure references such as “the sun passed o’er the meridian” and “the land-rail out from her grassy bed”, the landrail, of course, being another name for the corncrake.

Kevin Mitchell sang Sarah Jane in a 2000 home recording on his and Ellen Mitchell’s Musical Traditions album Have a Drop Mair. Rod Stradling noted:

Kevin: I learned this at the Forkhill singing weekend—I think it was from Phil Callery of the Voice Squad, and I believe he got it from Frank Harte … who had it from Eddie Butcher.

This lovely local ballad does indeed come from Eddie Butcher of Magilligan, Co Derry, and was popularised by Frank Harte on his Faetain recording Daybreak and a Candle-End (SPIN 995). Frank had never heard anyone but Eddie sing it. Liza Kealy’s is a pub in Myroe, Co Derry.

Matthew Byrne sang Sarah Jane on his 2017 album Horizon Lines. He noted:

From the late Frank Harte, whose repertoire of Irish traditional songs was simply breathtaking. I particularly love the language in this one—wonderful words and phrases that you only hear in traditional songs. My favourite line is from the blackbird who bluntly says “you might as well go home and sing your poem, for you’ll ne’er wed Sarah Jane”.

Ken Wilson and Jim MacFarland sang Sarah Jane on their 2017 album Here’s a Health to the Company!. They noted:

This song is from the repertoire of Eddie Butcher, a County Derry singer who was recorded by Dr. Hugh Shields and Len Graham.

Lyrics

Frank Harte sings Sarah Jane

One day out for my amusement
It being on a Thursday the first of June
As the sun passed o’er the meridian
It being in the afternoon
Near the dwelling of a gentleman
Short time I did remain
But little I thought that I might be caught
In the snares of a Sarah Jane

As I sat fornenst yon hawthorn fence
I had scarce commenced my thought
When the north wind breeze my ear did please
As distant footsteps brought;
To me she cried when passing by
And, how I felt the pain
But she made me curse then the pain felt worse
When I met with Sarah Jane

I was much a-surprised and I could not rise
When she gave to me her hand
In my heart I thought “Hard is your lot
To plough through such rough land”;
Though the pay’s not much for gathering scutch
Short time I did remain
Then she bade me adieu and from me flew
And away went Sarah Jane

It was on that spot where I was deep in thought
I had scarce commenced my woe
When a blackbird spoke from a bower stalk
My mind he seemed to know
Saying, “If you could fly just the same as I
Your wings and your voice you would strain
For you’d be whistling shrill on the windowsill
Surmising Sarah Jane.”

Now, when the skylark sings well her wings she spreads
And I commenced for to make my moan
And the landrail loud from her grassy bed
Seemed with me seemed to intone
Though her voice was course and grating still
Her notes they were sharp and plain
Saying, “You might as well go home and sing your poem
For you’ll ne’er wed with Sarah Jane.”

Well, if I had yonder valley and diamonds
I would lay them at her command
Or if I had Aladdin’s wondrous lamp
It would shine supremely grand
Or by building castles in the air
Great pleasures I might obtain
But I prefer to spend my days in happy ways
In the arms of Sarah Jane

But now the pain it is decreasing daily
And a-roving she may go;
She can call at Liza Kealy’s
As she passes through Myroe;
She can drink from a bottle of the best
Or drink unto the poet’s name
And I hope always she’ll have happy days
That maid called Sarah Jane

Kevin Mitchell sings Sarah Jane

One day for my amusement,
It was Thursday the first of June,
As the sun rose o’er the meridian,
It being in the afternoon,
Near the dwelling of a gentleman
Short time I did remain,
And it’s little I thought that I’d be caught
In the snares of Sarah Jane.

As I sat fornenst yon hawthorn fence
I scarce commenced my thoughts,
When the north wind breeze my ear did tease
And distant footsteps brought;
To me she smiled when passing by
And, oh, how I felt the pain,
And she made me curse for the pain felt worse
When I met with Sarah Jane.

I was much surprised and I couldn’t rise
When she gave to me her hand.
In my heart I thought “hard is your lot
To plough through such rough land”;
Though the pay’s not much for gathering scutch,
Short time I did remain,
But she bade me adieu and from me flew,
And away went Sarah Jane.

It was on that spot I was deep in thought,
I scarce commenced my woe,
When a blackbird from her bower spoke,
My thoughts she seemed to know,
Saying, “If you could fly just the same as I,
Your wings and your voice you’d strain,
You’d be whistling still on the windowsill,
Surmising Sarah Jane.”

When the skylark sings and spreads his wings
I scarce commenced my moan
And the landrail from her mossy bed
With me seemed to intone.
Though her voice was rough and grating,
Still her notes were sharp and plain,
Saying, “You might as well go home and sing your poem
For you’ll ne’er wed with Sarah Jane.”

Now if I had yonder valley and diamonds,
I would lay them at her command,
And if I had Aladdin’s wondrous lamp,
t would shine supremely grand,
Or by building castles in the air
Great pleasures I might obtain,
But I prefer to spend my days in happy ways
In the arms of Sarah Jane.

Now the pain it is receding daily
And a-roving she may go;
She may call at Liza Kealy’s
As she wanders through Myroe;
She may drink from a bottle of the best,
Or drink to the poet’s name,
But I hope always she’ll have happy days,
That maid called Sarah Jane.